Better Than Leith
by dragonpearlz
Summary: Greer marries Lord Castleroy and cares for him through his first cold. A/N: For those of you watching, I don't recall if they named his previous wife, so I had her share the same name as his eldest daughter. sickfic, sneezefic


Greer sighed contently in the early morning light. She hadn't been sleeping as well as she used to, not since the wedding and the subsequent move into her husband, Aloysius Castleroy's, chambers. True to his normal grace and dignity, he had made it clear that she did not have to sleep with him until she was ready. But, she didn't feel comfortable sleeping on her own any more. She was no longer a single lady of court. Nay, she had been courted, wooed, and claimed. More than that, she had accepted the terms of his marriage proposal, knowing that there was no better man who was going to treat her – and her sisters – with such respect. He was truly a man ahead of his time, and she was lucky to be his partner, his wife.

Her heart fluttered a bit as his gentle shallow breaths were momentarily interrupted by a snore. Hawk-like eyes narrowed and she gently placed her hand on his side. He gave another short snore before settling back into his gentle breathing rhythm. Although she knew that they had been married for a short time, she had never heard him snore before. In her sleepy haze, she wished that she had known his first wife. Had they been friends, there was a possibility – however small –of his sleep habits changing due to different stimuli.

She sighed contently as her eyes slowly shut, allowing herself to drift into a soft morning sleep, to the rhythmic breathing of her husband.

Later that morning, she smiled at him as he got dressed. "I trust that you slept well," she offered, knowing full well that he did.

The soft smile that had started to cause butterflies to form in her stomach crossed his thin lips. "I did," he said, his voice tired none-the-less.

Brown eyes narrowed as she looked him over. "And yet you sound exhausted. If you need more sleep, I will gladly make your excuses at breakfast."

His smile grew and touched his eyes at her offer. "Not as tired as all that," he assured her. "Besides, I have a special surprise for you in our private dining area." The corners of his eyes crinkled as he looked at her – this lovely young woman who had agreed to marry the man with the propensity towards spices. They both came with their own history. His lovely wife Yvette had died years before her time, leaving their four lovely children in his care. She had fallen in love with someone below her station, who kept cropping up in their lives. He felt his heart twist. He could not lose her to a younger man. The scandal would destroy his family. He would have to prove to her, every day, that she made the right choice in choosing him.

Greer's face relaxed a bit as a look of disbelief crossed it. "Aloysius you've already done too much."

"Nonsense. You've spent a long time at court, away from your home. You've lost friends and those you've kept have changed. If I can bring to you a taste of what you consider to be home… well… it's the least I can do."

He offered her his arm and she took it gently, tilting her head as she smiled at him. He was not an overtly tall man, nor did he possess the lean muscles of Leith. But, she felt safe with him. Safety – in her life – was a very precious commodity. She knew that the marriage of her sisters depended on hers, moreso now that they were paying their dowries. Her marriage to a successful businessman would shine favorably on her father, making his business more profitable. Precarious as she knew her situation was, she also knew that she was an equal partner, and that he truly would do all he could to keep her safe.

She smiled as they came into their dining area. The smells of home wafted out of it. Brown eyes widened as a smile she could neither repress nor deny spread across her face. "This is amazing. You have everything! Porridge, skirlie, caboc, callops, blood pudding… even haggis. However did you know how to prepare it?"

Castleroy scratched at his eyebrow. "I must say that was a bit of a mystery. I'm not certain that we got it right, but I'm sure with your help, we'll perfect the recipe." Suddenly, he squeezed his eyes closed.

"Aloysius?" Greer asked, the smile leaving her face. She had been able to sit down, but abandoned her seat to come to his side. "Are you all right."

He opened his eyes slowly, the impassive neutral expression that he showed the world plastered on his face. "I'm fine," he said, giving her a crooked grin.

"You promised me, you would always be honest with me," Greer said, taking his hand. "Now what is it?"

"Greer… it's it's nothing. I assure you." Quickly, he turned away from her and pulled out his handkerchief. "Heh-Tssh!" he sneezed quickly.

"Bless you." She looked at him critically. "Are you all right?"

"It's just a sneeze Greer," he said, moving towards the table.

She cocked her head to the side, fixing him with the same critical look. She was not fazed, nor was she amused.

He sighed. "I feel a bit under the weather," he admitted. "But, it's nothing for you to concern yourself over." He hoped it would put her heart at ease.

"If you need more rest – "

He shook his head, cutting her off. "I have a meeting today and some paperwork to do. We have to talk about my next business trip and if you will be coming with me." He took a bite of the haggis and stopped chewing, squeezing his eyes closed again.

Greer couldn't help but smile. Haggis was an acquired taste and certainly not for everyone. Taking her own seat, she had a bit herself – and stopped chewing. It was horrible. Cinnamon and clove mixed in odd and horrid ways. Picking up her napkin she coughed, spitting the bite into it. "That's horrid," she admitted, with a laugh. "Please don't swallow that."

Castleroy spit out his own piece and laugh. "Thank goodness," he said with a bit of a huffed laugh. The two of them looked at each other and burst out laughing, any tension that had been there lost to the moment.

That night, they dined with the court.

Greer had worried about her husband all throughout the day. Even as she tended to Mary and shared stories with Kenna. Even as she cooed over Lola's baby. She knew that it was likely that whatever ailment Castleroy was coming down with was small. He didn't seem to be concerned, but with the plague so recent and the absence of Nostradamus, she couldn't help but be concerned. This was her husband. He was her responsibility and she was determined to care for him, not simply leave him in the care of servants. He was good to her, and she would be good to him in return.

She cast several glances at Castleroy, realizing that he was keeping bit closer to her than he typically did. Even when they were socializing separately, he would always keep her in his line of sight. She smiled at him and nodded reassuringly. But, she could tell that his color was off. She felt a surge of protection launch through her and the only thing she wanted to do was remove him from the situation.

"Well I just don't know. I know that Aloysius wants to return to his country home and stay with his children, but to do that I would have to leave Mary and court. We're discussing it. No decision has been made as of yet," she explained to Kenna and Bash.

"Well, you can't very well –" Kenna started to advise.

But, then she heard it. "Heh-Tssh! Tessh!"

Greer's head snapped to the side, and she saw Castleroy doing his best to contain a bit of a fit.

"Excuse me," she said, moving to his side.

She arrived mid-sneeze and negated waiting to be admitted into the conversation. "I see that you met with the dignitaries regarding those new spices from Scotland. How did the meeting go?" She placed her hand on the back of his shoulder and squeezed lightly as he tended to his nose.

"Quite well, thank you. The problem with dealing in spices is the effect they sometimes affect the nose," he said by way of an apology to the person with whom he was engaged in conversation.

The lord gave him a look of annoyed indifference and excused himself from the conversation.

"Are you all right?" she asked quietly, her hand never leaving his arm.

He nodded. "I must admit, I do feel a bit more under the weather than before. But, I thank you for the reprieve from that conversation. "

"I shall stay by you, tonight. You will tell me when you are ready to retire," she demanded.

He smiled, broadly. He appreciated how she took control and yet gave him all of it. She was truly a remarkable woman and he felt safer with her at his side.

"My dear, would you care for a dance?" Castleroy asked, holding his hand out to his lovely wife. Truth be known he was quickly tiring. But the smile that crossed Greer's face whenever he had the honor of dancing with her was worth the exhaustion. Besides, the night was quickly coming to an end, and they could make their excuses without anyone being the wiser to his health and wellbeing.

The walk back to their chambers was a long one. Castleroy had never considered them to be too far from court before. But, this evening, it seemed as though they were walking back to his manor home. He was comforted by the fact that Greer kept up the conversation when people were around, but lead him in a cautious and tactile manner when they walked the long corridors alone.

He coughed dryly. "I thank you for this, Greer."

"No thanks are necessary. I just wish you had told me earlier today that you were feeling so poorly." She placed a guiding hand on his arm and let him set the pace. "We'll get you into bed and then I'll have the servants bring you a warming pan, and we'll see what you need from there."

He turned away from her and sneezed. "Heh-Tessh! Tessh Hummumph!" into tented hands. He let out a short breath and sighed.

"Well don't stifle them," Greer directed as she lead him down the final hallway. Their pace had gotten slower as they processed, with Castleroy doing his best to keep his own balance. She had stolen a number of looks at him, but didn't want to gawk at his ever rosier cheeks or the dark circles that were starting to appear under his eyes.

"I wish not to burden you with such issues as my health," he stated, exhaustion finally setting into his voice.

"What kind of wife!" Greer exclaimed, taking a look from him and calming herself until they entered their chambers. She gave him a few moments to move to his desk chair before continuing her tirade. "What kind of wife would I be if I didn't care for you? I said I would keep you safe. I vowed for better and worse. I care for you quite a good deal and I – I could not ignore you at a time like this."

Castleroy bowed his head against his wife's tirade, which he realized – too late – that he had sparked. The girl with another lover really had learned to care for him. She was really going to give their relationship a good fighting chance. He held up a tired hand. "Yes, of course, you are correct." He got up and moved his aching body towards her. "I appreciate your concern, Greer. Thank you," he said softly.

She pressed her hand against his cheek aware of the slight fever that he was running. She smiled slightly, her eyes softening as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "Come," she said, tugging his hand with her other one. "Let's get you resting."

Castleroy sighed heavily, and let her lead him to the bed. He had never seen this side of her, but it delighted him greatly.

The tickle burned in Castleroy's throat and he worked at suppressing the coughs even in his sleep. He was vaguely aware of Greer's gently hands on his face, but not enough to tell her not to worry. Instead he moved closer to her, closer to her touch. It felt comforting to be in the arms of a loving woman again.

Greer stood in the doorway, pulling her robe tight around her frame. "I need a basin of freshly pumped water, cool rags, and tea."

"Yes, um," the servant girl said with a quick curtsey.

Greer sighed as she rested her hand on her forehead. Castleroy was ill. She had never been known for her caring ways, normally leaving such things to servants. But, he was her husband, her responsibility, and she didn't want to leave him in anybody else's care.

"I can also send for a doctor," a guard mentioned.

"No," Greer said, forcing a smile that only sort of reached her eyes and didn't touch the rest of her face. "Not yet. I don't believe he's as ill as all that."

The guard did not seem to believe her, but nodded his head anyway and stepped back.

Greer reentered their chamber and sat on Castleroy's side of the bed. Gentle fingers moved across his fever dried forehead and pushed his hair back.

"I do appreciate your care. But, I'm not dying," he responded, as he blinked up at her.

"I never said you were," she replied with a smile. "Though I do wish I knew what I could do to make you feel better."

He placed his hand over her own. "I have no right to ask you of that. Not this early on. You've done more than enough already." And his cold wasn't even in full bloom yet, generally taking at least a day or two to settle into his chest or head.

"Well I'm certain you're not up for anything too intimate," she lead.

He huffed a laugh, causing him to pull his hand back and cover a few whistling coughs. "Not right now. No." He sighed and looked away, betraying how insecure he felt at this moment.

Greer waited until he was ready to speak, taking the time to answer the door for the servant who had brought the water, wash clothes, and tea. "I'm really not much in the mood for tea," he said, as she placed the items strategically around the room.

Greer felt abashed, but said nothing. Perhaps she was over-reacting for something so simple as a cold. But, she wanted him to feel secure in her ability to care for him. "Then tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it. Should I summon a doctor?"

"No, I believe you are over reacting," he said, pushing himself up slightly. Suddenly he curled into himself a bit. "Tessh! Heh-Tessh! Tessh! Tessh! Hep-Tessah!"

"Bless you," she said, coming over to her side of the bed. She came up behind him and rubbed his back through his night shift.

He took a stutter breath. Then, "Heh-Tessh! Tessh! Heh-Tessh!"

"Bless you," she offered gently, disliking very much the feeling of helplessness that she was left with.

He blew his nose and groaned as he leaned back, comforted by her touch, embarrassed to wish for more of it.

"You must understand, this isn't an easy thing for me to ask for. Yvette just knew what I needed. I – I…" his voice trailed off. "I know that much of the beginning of our marriage is a learning experience. I just wish this wasn't the first of the many lessons we'll learn together." He started to feel hot, uncomfortable. He knew that his temper would become shorter, and his need for solitude would grow. If this was any indication, it would likely be the cause of an argument. He hoped that it didn't cause her to doubt, especially when there was so much to doubt.

"What do you need? Something from France or your children? Something completely unobtainable?" She had been trying to make him laugh. Instead, he snapped at her.

"Greer! I just need you to be quiet. And hold me." He knew he was not a dashing man like Leith had been. He was no longer young. But, he had developed a good name for himself in the spice trade. He was a formidable businessman of good repute. He wanted Greer to view him as strong, as someone who could protect her.

Greer softened immediately and leaned back against the pillows, feeling the cool satin press against her linen night gown. Neither said a word as he leaned against her and she held him securely but loosely, giving him enough room to move, but letting him know that she would be there for anything he could need.

The next day, Greer worked hard at not being worried about her not quite ailing husband. His cold was a bit worse and his symptoms more pronounced at breakfast. But, he still had an appetite and had practically begged her to stop worrying and stop hovering over him. He had pointed out that he had weathered worse ailments in his day and that he wasn't a child to be coddled.

He was correct of course. He didn't need her hovering as though he were his children's age. She sighed as she thought of his children. They were so attractive and well behaved. She wished she could take solace in spending time with them. It would make her feel closer to him. Right now, as she listened to Mary and Lola speak too politely about Lola's child, she felt distanced from everyone.

Kenna gave her a dark look and pulled her off to the side. "You have been quiet and sullen all day. What is it? There is something wrong. Now spill it."

Greer's eyes clouded at being discovered and she crossed her arms in front of her. "It's nothing."

Kenna blinked rapidly as she looked her friend over. "Is he unkind to you?"

Greer looked at her friend incredulously. "No, of course not. We're just… figuring thing out."

"Like?" Kenna demanded.

Greer sighed. "He's not feeling well and I'm apparently a nagging harpy," she blurted out.

"Did he call you that?" Kenna asked, with a badly repressed laugh.

"No! Of course not. But… "

"Look. I know what it is to be married to someone you hardly know. You can't just expect familiarity. At least you had some sort of courtship. Just," she shook her head as she looked at Mary and Lola who seemed to want to come towards them. "Just bring him a glass of port after dinner. Ask him how his day went. Show interest in his meetings. If you treat him like he's strong, he'll come to you when he's weak."

Greer rubbed the bridge of her nose and plastered on her most convincing smile, knowing that Kenna would see right through it. "Yes, of course."

"It's all right. It's all new. Smiles for the Queen," Kenna said, putting on her more practiced fake grin.

"So, how did your meeting with the merchant from Spain go?" Greer asked, as she brought Castleroy a glass of strong port, loaned to her from Kenna.

"It's a – It's an interesting thing," he said, clearing his painfully sore throat. "Thank you," he whispered, trying to figure out what had caused such a change in Greer. The previous night she had practically smothered him. Now, she was acting as though nothing was wrong. It didn't sit well with him. "A spice merchant without his sense of smell."

Worry flashed across Greer's fine features. "Oh dear. Will you be able to schedule another meeting?"

His handkerchief out, he sneezed stuffily into it. "Yes, well luckily he will be visiting for a number of weeks. I'm sure I will be able to meet with him before he heads back to Spain." He sipped the port and suppressed a few coughs as the vapours cleared his head and chest.

He sighed lightly, blinking slowly as he watched Greer sit down and stare into the fire. The ever pressing weight of disease clutched his chest and filled his head making it hard for him to breathe and even harder for him to think. "I apologize for anything I may have said that upset you this morning," he offered with a shiver.

"You owe me no apology," she said as kindly as she could. "If I am being a nagging harpy, it is your right to tell me. I – I'll adjust my dealings with you, until it works."

"I am quite sure I didn't call you that," he said, leaning forward. His head throbbed and he worried about his ability to stand.

"But, it meant the same thing!" she retorted.

"Feeling smothered is not the same as not wanting you by my side!" he countered. "Greer, I apologize for this morning. I always seem to say the wrong thing and find that I'm a little tongue tied around you."

This took her off guard. "Around me? But, you're always so eloquent with your words. You always seem to know exactly the right thing to say."

"Until this morning. When I let me discomfort with the situation take control over my way of communicating my feelings. Greer, I can't say it enough. I want you beside me." He closed his eyes tightly and turned, handkerchief at the ready. "Tessh! Tesssh! Heh-TessHah!" He groaned again.

Greer crossed the room easily, kneeling down in front of him. "Then let me be beside you. In this… in everything. Please."

He sighed, the color draining from his face. "Yes, of course. I did promise. I'm just…"

"Ill, I know. And yet, I still find myself attracted to your side. Please let me be there."

A warm smile crossed his face. Gently, he palmed her cheek, feeling the young, soft skin beneath his hand. "How could any man say no to that?" He suppressed another cough. "My colds come in five days. They're infrequent, but annoying. The third day is always the worst. Tomorrow, I'll need touch, tea, and not to be disturbed for any reason. I'll need you to attend my meetings for me and let me know what happens. Make no decisions without me, but I won't be in any place to be around spices. I'll follow up with the meetings at the end of the week." As if to accentuate his point, he sneezed heavily.

"Bless you," Greer said, standing up. She pressed a gentle kiss to his dry lips. "I would be honored. But, I'll need you to let me know who I'm meeting with and what you want from them. History, anything you can so that they don't try to take advantage."

"How did it go?" Castleroy responded, his vision burry with fever. He tried to move himself up the pillow, but became out of breath far too quickly.

"Well, aside from being offended that you'd sent a woman and being quite certain they could take advantage of me, I'd say it went rather well," Greer said, coming to sit at the side of the bed.

"You didn't let them, did you?" he asked, knowing full well that he did not.

"Of course not," she responded, rolling her eyes a bit. "But, you will need to meet with them by the end of the week. I'll tell you what happened when your fever is a bit lower, so you may actually remember what I say."

He laughed, causing a few barking coughs to escape out.

"I still don't like the sound of that cough." She poured him a small bit of brown liquid from a square shaped bottle. "Here, my father swears by it. He left me a bottle after the wedding. Here," she said, handing him the glass.

He attempted to sniff it, but to no avail.

"You can trust me. It's brandy - not laced with poison. You're worth more to my father alive."

Brown eyes flashed at her dangerously. "Don't even kid about that. _You _are worth more to your father," he said, downing the drink in its entirety. Almost immediately, he erupted in violently productive coughs.

Greer caught him by the shoulder and pushed him forward, handing him a fresh handkerchief.

After a few minutes, the coughing calmed and he took a deep breath. He palmed the handkerchief, careful to keep it away from Greer. "Effective."

She made a noncommittal noise. "It won't help with your sneezing and headache, unfortunately, but maybe it'll help you breathe enough to rest."

The corner of his eyes crinkled as he looked at his wife. How could he have tried to keep such a wonderful woman away from him? "It's appreciated." A small squeak escaped him.

"Don't hold them in," Greer said, handing him a new handkerchief. She had gotten used to the noises he made when he was trying to maintain a normal façade.

"Heh-Tessh! Tessh! Tessh! Hah-Tessh! Tessh!" He blew his nose weakly. "I'll be happy when this is over."

"At least they're short lived, " Greer said, sitting next to him on the bed. "Come, lean against me. Tell me about how you expect your meetings to go when you are prime negotiator."

"Lord Castleroy seems to be doing better," Kenna said, coming up beside Greer at the social lunch that Saturday.

"The port and your advice did just the trick," Greer admitted. "And, the merchants who were not completely insulted that he had sent a woman to his meetings have done quite well by him." She smiled brilliantly at Kenna. Kenna nudged her, and she followed her line of sight. Lord Castleroy was smiling admiringly at her. She smiled back, her fine features nearly matching the glow in her eyes.

"I never thought I'd see you give anyone but Leith that look," Kenna whispered.

The pain in her heart that typically flared when someone mentioned or she saw Leith had lessened somehow. "You know, I never thought I would either. But, he is better than Leith. Better for me, and I'm honored."


End file.
